


Anew

by sapphirelance



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Coronation day, F/M, Fluff, Lovestruck Dorks, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 04:17:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14741837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphirelance/pseuds/sapphirelance
Summary: Chrom struggles with the reality that he is the next in line for the throne after his beloved sister’s death. Coronation day is upon them and Robin offers her sage counsel in attempt to ease his fears.





	Anew

**Author's Note:**

> First Chrobin piece! The game kinda keeps things up to interpretation on how long these events are kinda spread out (up until the 2nd half anyway). So events may/may not have changed from the original timeline in this piece. But it won’t matter much since the focus is on just one scene.
> 
> Also I edited this on my iPad so if there’s something weird, sorry!

It was about the fifth time or so that morning Chrom had disappeared almost entirely. 

 

After a practically sleepless night, Chrom was quick to realize he didn’t have the patience, nor the energy to deal with today’s demands. The castle staff had been buzzing since the sun rose. Servants and nobles alike had been persistent in their nagging, all of them had plenty of nearly pointless requests to ask of their prince as the ceremony drew closer and closer. He had faced plenty of enemies that weren’t as tenacious. 

 

Much to Chrom’s chagrin, his staff and guests didn’t seem to realize that the prince was not actually in direct charge of his own coronation. Chrom had asked Fredrick, Lissa, Cherce, and Cordelia to see to the little things—possibly acting as a buffer to help Chrom’s work load. They had taken up the mantel eagerly. If anyone needed to ask how to drape the banners or arrange the seating, it would be _them_ , not _him_. 

 

Apparently, it would have to be until after coronation before his orders were to be taken seriously. Here he was, ducking down the main corridor of the palace like a child hiding from their overbearing nursemaid. No matter what Chrom or the Shepherds in charge had to say, they were all still bombarded. 

 

Ylisse would have a new Exalt by the end of the day. The weight of it all had been crushing the young prince in the process. He had barely any time to process the events of the past few weeks—the death of his beloved sister, the defeat of Gangrel, proposing to Robin, his own wedding day—all of which seemed to be fuzzy memories at best. Chrom hadn’t been sure of any of them were real or not. 

 

“Have you seen his highness at all?” he heard one of the maids asking another as he ducked behind a statue. Chrom wasn’t that concealed behind it. His hiding place could be easily exposed, but any little bit seemed to help.

 

“I haven’t,” replied another. “Sir Fredrick would likely know his whereabouts.” 

 

Both maids turned the corner, talking indistinctly. Chrom took this opportunity to run while he could. Just ten more feet, and he was home free. The door to his chambers was in plain sight. 

 

More footsteps behind him. Chrom didn’t even bother turning around. Clutching the doorknob of his chamber door tightly in his hand, he jerked it open harder than he originally intended. Letting himself inside, he shut it quickly, sliding the lock in place. 

 

He slid down the door frame, slumping his spine. He held the bridge of his nose with his hand, sighing forcefully. Chrom rested his head against the wooden surface, shutting his eyes. His fingers damp from tears at the corners of his eyes.  _Sister, I can’t do this._

 

The late morning sun fully shone through the window of the room, casting small prisms and patterns of the glass onto the elegant navy rug spread across the floor. The servants had already been here this morning. The bed had been made meticulously, not a single wrinkle in the fabric of the comforter. A mountain of pillows were stacked and arranged in a neat pattern against the headboard. His clothes for the ceremony had been draped over a chair near the changing screen, also completely free of wrinkles. The room itself had been cleaned in its entirety—almost eerily so.

 

Chrom stood up straight, stretching out his back as he collapsed face first onto the perfect bed. He didn’t care that it was ruined now. It actually felt good to sabotage it.

 

“Chrom?” A familiar voice broke him free of his thoughts. 

 

He turned over, looking up to see Robin, stepping out from behind the changing screen. She was radiant, and not in just the way her form fit into her navy and gold dress, or how her white hair cascaded down her shoulders from their usual ties. Her voice alone brought him back to earth from the deepest pits of hell they had been finding themselves in lately. He had been the same for her, she had told him. In that moment, he was finding it hard to believe. 

 

“Chrom?” she asked again gently. Chrom watched her take a few strides forward, the airy fabric of her dress flowed around her figure, skimming the carpet floor even more now that she was without heels. She took up a set next to him on their bed as he rose upright. Robin placed a hand on his knee, keeping him in place—grounding him as an anchor would. “Everything okay?” 

 

“Forgive me, Robin, I didn’t know you were getting ready,” he said, forcing an exhale. “I don’t mean to intrude.” 

 

Robin let out a light chuckle, holding back the giddiness that still hit her when she thought about them. “We’re _married_ , Chrom,” she reminded him. “It’s fine. This room is just as much yours as it is mine.” 

 

Chrom was keenly aware of her gaze that was fixed on him. Completely unwavering and rock solid, yet her brown eyes were so inviting and so easy to be lost in. Robin toyed with a lock of his hair after moving the hand on his knee to the back of his neck soothingly. As if that action would somehow bring him back to reality. “Something’s bothering you, isn’t it?” 

 

He didn’t answer. His own gaze fell to his lap as his head fell in his hands.

 

“Is it about today?” she asked softly, stroking his upper back in small circular patterns. She was so close Chrom could feel her warm breath against him, smelling faintly of chamomile. He managed a nod. 

 

“Gods Robin, I can’t do this,” he managed to choke out against his hands. “There’s no way...” 

 

Robin didn’t scold him, like part of him half-expected. His imagination was already going to every worst-case scenario possible for today, including what she would think of him. Would she regret her decision to stand by him? Would she stay and help restore Ylisse?

 

She pulled him in closer. The movement alone made him look up at her in awe as she took his head in her palms, cradling his jaw in each hand. With another gentle pull, she met him in the middle, pressing a kiss to his lips. Her thumbs whisked away some tears that had rolled down his cheek. 

 

Robin waited for him to continue. Knowing her husband well, even though they had only been married two days, she could sense he had more to say than what his mouth let on. He rested his head against the crown of hers, holding her around her middle with a tired, but firm grasp.

 

“I just keep hearing Emmeryn’s voice over and over in my head,” Chrom said, his voice barely more than a hoarse whisper. “It’s just a bitter reminder of everything...” There was a pause between them. “I don’t know what to do. I’m not worthy of any of this. I can’t be what my people need me to be. And I can’t abandon them either. I won’t.” 

 

Robin wove her fingers through his azure locks, pushing them out of his face. Her smile was closed, but genuine all the same. 

 

“Chrom, the people don’t see you as a failure,” she said tenderly. The way she looked up at him rendered him even weaker than what he already felt. “Not the Shepherds, not the citizens, even the nobles.” She paused, rolling her eyes, “Well, not _all_ of the nobles. But that’s not what matters. Emmeryn wouldn’t see you as a failure for a choice she made. If anything, I was the failure for not factoring in the possibility of the Risen during the attack—”

 

“Robin, I don’t blame you for what happened. You do know that, right?” 

 

“I mean, you have made it fairly clear with the plenty of times you told me, but unfortunately I do still feel the sting of reality from time to time,” Robin said, tilting her head from side fo side as she pondered, her white twin tails swished with her movement. “But the point is, Chrom, like we said before in Regna Ferox: you don’t have to become your sister in order to stand up for what she believed in. She would want you to be true to yourself.”

 

He sighed once more, knowing Robin was completely right, yet he was still unsettled. Robin smiled as a small laugh escaped her lips, automatically lifting Chrom’s spirit a bit. “You can even cut off one of the sleeves on every top you own, if you want. Even today, if that’d make you more comfortable.”  

 

“I’m half tempted. I haven’t dressed yet, so I might,” he chuckled, looking her in the eye. 

 

“I knew that would work,” she said, letting him kiss her cheek. She locked eyes with him—the determination sparkling in her eyes had been there every time they had gone to battle together, and now it returned with its usual ferocity.

 

“You will be a wonderful exalt to your people.” Her voice was gentle, but still solid. “I’ve seen it since the day I first met you. You genuinely care for people, and you have done—and will do—everything in your power to protect them. I like to think I’m a prime example of that.” 

 

Robin was a prime example of his caring nature, Chrom had to admit. He had found her in a field; a stranger with no ties to anyone or anything and yet he took her in. Despite the notes of caution from Fredrick the Wary, Chrom helped her anyway. She could have been the worst enemy he had ever faced in his life, and yet still there he was, offering his hand to her to help her off the ground. 

 

They fought well together, side by side. He made her a Shepherd. He made her his partner. Then he made her his wife, and his queen. Distantly, he hoped one day he could contribute to making them parents, too.

 

And it hadn’t just been Robin who came into his life because of his attitude, though she definitely made the biggest impact. Most of the Shepherds stood by him because of who he was as a person, not for titles or gold, (or candy, in Gaius’s case). Even the Khans of Regna Ferox stood with him. 

 

“This kingdom has been through it’s share of rough times, from what you’ve told me, and from what I have seen,” Robin continued. “We can begin anew today, my love.” 

 

He reached over again, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Thank you, Robin. My voice of reason. The wind at my back and the sword at my side.”

 

Chrom glanced down at her, finally taking in how stunning his wife was in her coronation gown. She had been so insistent on nothing overly-extravagant (much to Lissa’s disappointment) for both her wedding and coronation gowns. The tailors had granted her request, but had given her a little royal flair with the little gold pieces of metal at her shoulders, holding the dress in place. Even so, she was nothing short of extravagant in Chrom’s eyes (though, he _was_  a little bias when it came to Robin). The navy fabric of the dress complimented her fair skin and nearly white hair perfectly.

 

“You look beautiful,” he said, still marveling at her with a ridiculous doting smile plastered on his face. “Ylisse’s colors suit you well, my dear.” 

 

Robin blushed, not meeting his gaze for a moment as she looked down at her dress. “It _is_  more comfortable than some of the other things I’ve worn since I’ve been here.”

 

“But it’s still not your cloak, right?” 

 

She shook her head with a shameless smile. He pressed yet another kiss to her cheek. “I still don’t know how I got so lucky to have you. Naga must really pity me.” 

 

Robin huffed a laugh, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I should take you down for insulting my husband like that!”

 

“Even if he insults himself?” Chrom could feel the weight lift from him as he lost himself in Robin’s eyes. She sighed. “You just like putting me in predicaments, don’t you?” 

 

“Among other things, yes,” he said into her ear, his breath tickling her skin. She squirmed in his arms, but he held her fast to his frame, pressing more playful kisses against her collarbone and up her neck and eliciting a hushed squeal from her lips.

 

“Milord,” Fredrick’s voice sounded muffled from the other side of the door. His knock lost somewhere in between their teasing. “It’s almost time.” 

 

Chrom sighed against her neck, bringing him back to reality. He was about to stand up to answer the door, but Robin stopped him with a subtle gesture of her hand. Just when he thought she couldn’t save him any more that what she already had, she did. Slipping past him, Robin opened the door a little bit, enough for Fredrick to see her face. 

 

“Thank you, Fredrick,” she said. “I can take it from here.” 

 

“Shall I send the attendants your way?” he asked, though his tone didn’t really indicate it was much of a question as it was his insistence. “They will surely be of help—”

 

“I think we’re all set,” Robin assured him.

 

Fredrick cleared his throat, adjusting his stance. “No disrespect Rob—milady—but this is a most important day. Milord needs to be at his best, and so do you.”

 

“I know, Fredrick.” Robin smiled at him. “I think that I’m up for the challenge. It would make more sense for the throne room to be ready and the guests to be tended to, no? The servants have other things they need to tend to. I can see to Chrom.” 

 

Already her tactician’s brain was at work and Chrom was loving it. He smiled with pride behind her, out of Fredrick’s eye sight. He knew his ever-wary lieutenant would need to adjust to someone else fussing over him for a change. 

 

“If my queen insists, I will see to it,” Fredrick said, giving a little bow before excusing himself. 

 

“Thank you, Fredrick. We are indeed fortunate to have someone watching our backs the way you do.” 

 

Fredrick seemed pleased with her praise, though his stoney expression didn’t give much way to admitting it. He stepped away, heading towards the throne room. More maids clung to him, peppering him with questions. Robin closed the door behind her, shutting out the outside world once again.

 

“Never would I have expected him to call me ‘queen’,” she admitted with a sigh and a little chuckle. “It sounds so foreign coming from him.” 

 

“Well, he’s getting a head start. It’s what you’ll be known by in about an hour,” Chrom said, taking her into his grasp once more. He brushed her bangs out of her face with a sweep of his fingers. “Robin the Queen Consort of Ylisse.” 

 

“Now _that’s_ terrifying,” she said against his chest. She felt the rumble of his laugh against her, one of his hands trailing to the back of her head to cradle it in his palm. 

 

“I like to think it has a nice ring to it,” he said, kissing her. “You’re going to be incredible.” 

 

“ _We_  will be. Together,” she reminded him. “Two halves of a whole, remember?”

 

“Two halves of a whole,” he repeated. Robin pushed against him gently. “C’mon, let’s get you presentable. And if you cut off any more sleeves, Fredrick might kill me.” 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Still one of my favorite otps 
> 
> Thank you for reading!!


End file.
